


Upper Hand

by awomanalone



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alcohol, Eventual Smut, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awomanalone/pseuds/awomanalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack gets his fingers burnt and Phryne provides much needed attention. </p><p>Set shortly after end of Season 2, Murder under the Mistletoe. No spoilers for Season 3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic, I hope you all like this. 
> 
> I've been wanting to post something for ages after reading all the amazing fics for this ship (which I now need to finally comment on), and this came to me a while ago but its taken ages to write. No spoilers for Series 3 as this was written before it began and I have no idea when I will actually see Series 3 anyway- oh how much I wish I lived in Australia right now.
> 
> From everyone's tumblr posts I see drunk Jack has made an appearance this season- the Jack in this fic is also fairly tipsy. And having seen that picture of him waking up in bed at Phryne's house, let's just say there may be something like that in the next chapter- only with decidedly less clothes on!
> 
> Enjoy!

Jack Robinson stood at the door, his hand lifted to knock, still undecided as to whether or not he really wanted to enter. Well, not wanted, exactly, because if he was honest the house was not the only thing he wanted to enter in this vicinity. No, it was more to do with what would be considered the proper thing to do, and even more so, how much trouble it was liable to cause him later. Because having Phryne Fisher play nursemaid was likely to end in trouble. 

But the mere idea of it was also utterly enticing. 

He gave his usual sharp rap on the door, and then stood to wait for the arrival of Mr Butler. His fingers were beginning to pang, and he took hold of them in his other hand, examining the bandages Phryne had applied earlier in his office. That had been a debacle all in itself. Thank heavens for the cover of his desk, or Collins would have been arresting him for indecency after she had- consciously or unconsciously, though he betted on the former- stroked her thumb back and forth over his palm as she wrapped the white gauze around his finger tips. 

He was brought out of his reverie by the door opening and the appearance of the very same woman in front of him. A waft of French perfume hit him and he inhaled deeply, taking a moment just to look at her before he was forced to attempt conversation. She had changed since their earlier case and now wore a sleeveless cream dress with silver beading that fell to just below her knees. Her black bob betrayed none of her earlier exertion in chasing down their suspect, and was adorned with a beaded silver clip that perfectly matched her dress. She looked more ready for entertaining than tending to his wounds. Perhaps she had changed her mind. 

Before he could speak, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind them. He found his back pressed against the door as Phryne advanced ever closer, and fought the increasing urge not to grab her round the waist, switch positions and finally be able to kiss her the way he wanted to- to kiss her with abandon. He could feel her breath on his skin as she took hold of his wounded hand and pulled it up towards her face, leaning down to inspect the bandages. 

“Jack! You certainly took your time in getting here,” she admonished. “Come inside now and let me get you out of these things. I told you this needed proper seeing to.” 

He was propelled into the parlour and onto the chaise longue. Phryne took a seat beside him, nudging herself closer until there was only a thin sliver of air between her thigh and his. 

“Good evening, Miss Fisher,” he said at last, etiquette finally entering his brain. 

A teasing smile lit up her face and eyes as she took his hand again in one of her own, reaching behind her with the other towards the little table located beside the chaise. She located what she needed and turned back to him. 

“Good evening to you too, Jack. How are you feeling?” 

“Fine, thank you,” he lied as convincingly as he could. Phryne gave him a knowing look and he realised, not for the first time, how terrible a poker player he would be. 

She began to peel away at the bandage, finally revealing the reddened and blistering skin beneath. “If you’d just let me do this properly earlier, Jack, we needn’t have had to remove this now. I know that paperwork is important but there was no need to rush me out of your office quite so quickly.” 

Jack avoided her gaze, pretending to peer attentively at his wounds. His face was growing warm and he knew if he looked at her now he would blush beetroot. It hadn’t been the paperwork that had caused him to rush her out of his office, but there was no way he could admit the real reason to her now, or ever. 

He watched her fingers as she dipped them in a bowl and coated them in a strange looking substance. 

“Mr Butler,” she announced. He raised his brows at her, not comprehending her statement. She gestured to her fingers and he realised she had been answering his unspoken question. “The man can do everything.” 

“Where is he tonight?” Jack asked, finally lifting his head to meet her gaze. 

“He sometimes goes out in the evenings with a few of the other butlers in the area. He just had time to prepare one of his remedies for you before he left.” 

“And Miss Williams?” The house seemed awfully silent, and Jack was beginning to have the sneaking suspicion there was no one else at home. 

“Dot’s visiting her mother. She took Jane with her- they’ll both be back later. Scared to be alone with me, Inspector?” she enquired, her eyes alight with mischief and mirth. 

“Not at all, Miss Fisher.” 

His breath hitched as she began to apply the mixture over his burns. He was trying not to appear cowardly or boyish, but the wounds did smart and he was only human. 

“He also left something for you to drink, Jack. It’s just beside you- I was knowledgeably informed that it would do wonders to help with the pain.” 

Jack turned his head to look at the tray on the table, noticing a tall glass filled with a ruby red liquid. There was no indication as to what it contained, but as Phryne’s fingers happened upon a particularly tender spot he found himself reaching for it and taking a large gulp. He continued to drink as she finished applying the ointment and covered the wounds with a new set of bandages. The effects were rather immediate and Jack silently thanked Mr Butler’s excellent, if sometimes baffling, skills. 

“I see you enjoyed that,” Phryne commented as she rose to place the bowl of ointment on the side. Jack looked at her confused and she motioned to the glass in his hand, which he now saw was completely empty. “I’ll just be back in a moment,” she told him, exiting the room. 

Jack sat up straighter on the chaise, pulling himself together. Feeling warm, he removed his jacket and placed it over the seat opposite, before loosening his tie slightly. It came to him that he really should move to another seat before Phryne returned, to put some much needed distance between them, but she appeared once again before he could move. 

“Another, Jack?” she asked, and he nodded. She walked over to the drinks trolley, where he now saw a pitcher of the same ruby liquid placed beside their usual whiskey and glasses. He used the opportunity to switch places, depositing himself on the same chair as his jacket. Phryne leant over the trolley to pour their drinks, and he noticed for the first time that her dress had no back whatsoever. The fabric draped delicately down the sides of her body, joining in the centre just below the small of her back. It left her smooth skin open to his viewing and not for the first time he felt the urge to touch her there. He had seen her bare back many times in various outfits, and he had found a multitude of excuses recently to place his hand in the small of her back to guide her forward. The contact only ever lasted a few seconds, but he knew her skin was silky and warm beneath his. He had been grappling recently with a growing desire to stroke his fingers up and down her skin and an even stronger urge to kiss his way down her spine. Neither was appropriate in the slightest, but he was getting to the point where he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist. 

* 

Phryne felt the warmth of Jack’s gaze on her back as she poured their drinks. She smiled to herself on her choice of outfit for the evening. Dot had placed various gowns on her bed for her to choose from, and this one had seemed just perfect. It was entirely appropriate from the front, but exposed enough skin at the back so as to leave Jack desirous to see more. Or at least she hoped so. 

She handed Jack his glass, her heart dropping as she saw he had moved away from her. He thanked her with a smile, beginning to drink immediately. She could see from his face, and the rate at which he was inhaling Mr Butler’s concoction, that he was hiding the fact he was in pain. She wished he could be comfortable enough in her presence not to hide his discomfort, but she knew that they weren’t at the stage for such intimacies on Jack’s part just yet. 

She deliberately kept the conversation light and discreetly topped up Jack’s pain relief at every available opportunity. He was visibly beginning to relax as the evening wore on, and as she saw him begin to guzzle greedily at his latest medicinal offering, she began to steer the conversation elsewhere. 

“You really should have let me take you to hospital, Jack. Or at least let me call Mac out." 

Jack stared at her a few moments, his reflexes obviously slowed by the alcohol. “I’m doing just fine, thank you. My own private nurse has administered ointment and bandages and plied me with copious amounts of the most delicious pain relief I have ever tasted. What more could I want.” 

“All part of the service," Phryne mock saluted. She sipped from her own tumbler of whisky, deciding it was safe to be a bit more serious. "It was a damned stupid thing to do, Jack. You’re lucky you came out of this lightly.” 

“I seem to remember your hand itching to enter the flames, Miss Fisher, right before mine. And I’m sure you realise that those lovely white gloves of yours would have set alight and burnt your whole hand off before you’d even recovered the evidence," Jack retorted, and Phryne couldn't help grinning as they launched into another of their verbal sparring sessions. 

“It’s easy to think like that in hindsight, Jack Robinson. But at the time all I could see was that letter going up in flames and our man walking free." 

“Well he’s in custody now, so all is right with the world.” 

“Thanks to you.” Phryne knew she sounded petulant, and drew her lips into a defined pout to add to the comic effect. Jack's face broke out in a brief grin and she almost stuck her tongue out at him in order to see it again. 

"And my hands are feeling much better thanks to your dutiful attentions. Thank you, Phryne." 

Jack’s use of her first name sobered her and gave her a warm, contented feeling. His eyes sparkled at her and she found herself getting lost in their depths as she gave her reply. 

"It’s my pleasure." And it honestly was, though perhaps not as much pleasure as she desired at that moment in time. What would it hurt, really, to have a little fun? She wasn't going to take advantage of him- even intoxicated she knew Jack would have his own limits. They could both do with letting go a little, if only to relieve a little of the palpable sexual tension that was growing between them daily. 

"You know, as your private nurse, it is my duty to do everything in my power to relieve your pain. And I feel there is still one more method of pain relief I am obliged to try." 

Jack's eyebrows rose questioningly. "Oh?" 

Phryne placed her drink on the table and rose, stalking over to him and perching herself on the arm of his chair. She took his bandaged hand in hers and his eyes went wide with apprehension at her manoeuvre. 

"Yes," she breathed as she raised his hand to her lips. She delicately kissed the pad of each burnt finger through the bandage. She didn't forego his little finger despite it being the only digit unscathed from the fire. As her lips met his bare skin she heard his breathing grow ragged. Not being able to resist, she drew the tip of his finger between her lips and allowed her tongue to dart out briefly against his skin. A groan erupted from the back of his throat and Phryne released him, pressing her lips to the palm of his hand. She loosened her grip on his hand and was surprised when he didn't move. Instead, his hand cupped her cheek as he stroked her skin, panting as he regained his breath. Eventually he spoke. 

"You’re rapidly shredding what little willpower I’ve managed to retain." 

“You make me sound like a drug Jack,” she purred back. 

“The highest grade opium, Miss Fisher,” he replied, eyes never leaving hers. He seemed completely unabashed for once, while her mouth had gaped open and her cheeks were growing warmer by the second. 

Desperately wanting to cover up her own embarrassment, she drew her lips into an exaggerated O of shock and placed her hand in front of her mouth. “Jack! You do say the loveliest things.” 

“Did I surprise you?” 

Phryne nodded. “Most definitely.” 

Jack took another gulp of his drink before he spoke. The confidence of his eye contact was both slightly unsettling and wholly attractive, and it was also having a very strong effect on certain parts of her body. “I’m glad. You seem to spend every moment running rings around me. For once it’s nice to have the upper hand. 

“Very bold, Jack Robinson!” Phryne told him, grabbing hold of his tie and running it absently through her fingers. She had decided that she needed to regain her control before she came completely undone, and if that meant making Jack as hot under the collar as she was, so be it. “If I’d have known it was this easy to unleash the man beneath that buttoned up exterior, I would have found a way to ply you with vast quantities of liquor a long time ago.” 

“I could surprise you even more, if you so desire.” 

Phryne leaned in close to him, her face inches from his. “I desire anything you would wish to do to me, Jack,” she whispered. He gulped, and Phryne tortured him for a moment longer before releasing his tie. She didn’t even have time to move herself from the arm of the chair before he was up, pacing over to stand by the fireplace. She slipped down into the chair he had vacated, feeling the heat that had radiated off his body. 

With an arm resting on the sideboard, he began to speak. “Rather a long time ago, I came across something in the possession of Constable Collins. I was going to return it to you immediately, but Mr Lin was skulking around here and then when I finally decided I’d kept it long enough, that day at Cafe Replique happened. I felt from then on that combining us and that object in a room together would most certainly lead to disaster. So I kept it. One night, after the divorce, I finally decided to look inside. I thought of it as preparation for the most preposterous and unthinkable event: the day I would finally decide to face up to things and tell you everything.” 

"Would you care to share any of your learning?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get steamy between the two detectives as Jack imparts his knowledge of a certain piece of erotic literature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone in Australia enjoys the new episode today. I guess its only a few hours a way for all of you- here where I am it's first thing in the morning right now. I will be anxiously checking tumblr in my lunch break at work today to see how Phryne reacts over Jack and Concetta and whether it will finally give them both the shove in the right direction they need to admit their feelings. 
> 
> Back to the story...Did you all manage to guess what it was Jack had found?
> 
> Things gets steamy now, you may have to suspend your belief a little in this chapter but Jack is very drunk and Phryne is very enticing so his normally impeccable level of self restrain dwindles a little (or a lot, as the case may be) in this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Phryne had never considered for a moment that lending Hugh that book so long ago would one day lead to this, but it was a delicious turn of events. Erotica of the Far East...oh how much Jack could have learnt from reading that book. She licked her lips in anticipation, watching his face intently as he considered her suggestion. Her mind flicked back to the words of Jack’s speech and it hit her that he had read the book with her in mind. The thought of him devouring the book while envisaging the two of them together filled her with so much lust she felt like charging him and taking him right there in her parlour. 

She only just managed to restrain herself by focusing on the damage it would probably do to their fledgling relationship. It was too soon- Jack would just end up recoiling from her. She watched as he drained the remainder of his drink and prepared herself for the oncoming rejection. He moved away from the sideboard, a little shaky on his feet, and walked back over to her. His hand sought hers and she found herself falling against his chest as he pulled her sharply to her feet. She steadied herself, bracing her hands against his abdomen. She could feel the taut muscles of his stomach through the layers of fabric.

He took a step backwards and Phryne shivered at the loss of contact. She couldn't make him out. He'd pulled her towards him just to take another step away. It was just another step in their endless dance. Two steps forward, one step back. 

Her mind lost in thoughts, she barely registered her hand being grasped yet again. It was only as Jack's lips met her wrist that she realised he hadn't backed away. His thumb ran back and forward over her palm, his skin deliciously rough against hers. He placed another kiss to her wrist, a little further up this time, and Phryne's breath hitched. This was real. 

Her mind flitted of its own accord to memories of Lin Chung taking the exact same path such a long time ago. Out of all her lovers since she returned to Melbourne, Lin had been the most constant. Except Jack of course, but then she couldn't actually class Jack as a lover in the sexual sense. Yet. Instead, over the two years she'd known him he'd been her sparring partner, her equal in intelligence and wit, her conscience and her confidante. He'd come to mean so much that words failed her as to how to describe him. 

She felt the warm caress of Jack's lips on her skin once more and her frazzled brain once again presented her with memories of Lin. Only when she looked up into the face of the man in her memories, all her mind now conjured up was Jack's face. Jack, and that gorgeous smirk of his that ran from his eyes to his mouth whenever he managed to gain the upper hand in their flirtatious interludes. It was his face she now saw kissing along her arm, pulling the fabric of her robe away from her body until she was almost naked before him, kissing her shoulder, biting her neck, making a downwards trajectory to lap at her breasts. Her body was quaking with lust. 

But she knew, regretfully, that even an intoxicated Jack Robinson wouldn't be so bold. He would perhaps go as far as kissing her shoulder, maybe even her neck if she was lucky, then he would retreat back into himself. 

Phryne gasped as she suddenly felt teeth graze against the delicate skin of her forearm. She looked incredulously at Jack as his tongue briefly darted out to lave over the area. He repeated the action, eliciting another gasp from her, and she felt him smile against her arm before kissing her skin once again.

"Here and now, Phryne," he murmured against her skin. Lifting his mouth away, he turned his head to look up at her and fixed her with his gaze. He repeated his words, more firmly this time, and Phryne nodded in understanding, words evading her.

Jack continued his way up her arm, nipping the sensitive skin in the crease of her elbow as he went. Phryne was all sensation and she gave herself over to it freely, content for once not to be in control. She liked the dominance she could now see in Jack, and while she knew it was down to the alcohol, she hoped to be able to draw it out of him on future occasions too. 

*

He wasn’t sure what had come over him but he was thoroughly enjoying this turn of events nonetheless. His lips reached her shoulder, pulling the top of her dress away from her skin to run his tongue along her collarbone. She shivered and Jack felt a surge of pride wash over him at the effect he was having on her body. He would have never imagined himself a great lover; with Rosie things had been prim and proper, undertaking the conjugal act for pleasure, yes, but never pushing the boundaries to reach new heights. He was wholly inexperienced and that scared him, given all the other men Phryne had taken to her bed. 

He stepped behind her, his lips creating a trail from her shoulder to the back of her neck. He stroked his fingers through her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. The feel of the soft strands of her hair running through his fingers overwhelmed him more than he thought it would and he began to kiss her skin with more fervour. 

As he nipped at the nape of her neck Phryne crumpled before him. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her against him to support her. His mouth was at her ear and he let out a slow, deliberate breath over her sensitive skin, making her shiver yet again.

“Did I overwhelm you, Miss Fisher?” he whispered.

“No,” she murmured, her breathing ragged. “I just find I need to sit down.”

Jack helped her regain her balance before he dropped his arms from her waist. He stared after her as she walked to the chaise. 

“How do you want me, Inspector?” she purred as she took a seat, fluttering her eyelashes at him teasingly.

“On your front, Miss Fisher,” he ordered, and he watched as she winked at him before assuming her position on the chaise. 

He walked over to her and resumed his position at her neck, kissing the same spot that had made her so weak moments ago. Slowly and languidly, he made his way down her spine with wet, open mouthed kisses that had her moaning beneath him. He dug his tongue in the small of her back and she bucked wildly beneath him. Continuing his torture, he gave her backside a brief caress before stroking his hands up and down the backs of her legs. 

Not being able to resist, he placed a feather light kiss to the back of one knee, delighting in the way the bottom of her leg shot up in reaction. He was running short of places to kiss but knew that he couldn’t let himself down in the finale. Selecting his spot, he moved to kiss her one last time.

*

Phryne lay still, her breathing coming out in pants as she attempted to regain some shred of control. Her body throbbed painfully without release and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on. Her hips bucked against the chaise as Jack placed another kiss to that spot in the small of her back. His breath ghosted over her skin and she shivered, arching upwards to push herself closer to him.

No longer feeling his lips or his hands on her body, she tilted her head to gauge his location. Jack had retreated to the far side of the room. He stood at the fireplace, his back to her. Phryne sighed, knowing that what they had shared was most likely now over. The intimacy of those moments had rested on a knife edge, and she knew that the littlest thing could have overset the balance. Perhaps she’d been too eager; her body had reacted too much to the delicate attentions of his mouth and fingers. Or maybe he had just reached his limit. All she knew was that it was over and she had nowhere near had her fill.

What was she doing? If she wanted someone or something, she went after them and pursued until them until she was victorious. She could have Jack in her bed tonight; she could have him over and over again and sate this delicious urge that had overwhelmed her body. All she had to do was call and he would come.

“Jack,” she murmured, her voice coming out hoarse, and a lot weaker than she had aimed. She cleared her throat demurely, turning her body to rest on her side and arranging herself to the best of her advantage. She propped herself up on her one elbow and turned her head to face him, fluttering her lashes wantonly. “Come here, Jack,” she purred.

He turned, staring at her. Phryne studied him as he walked forward, seeing how his steps were slow and measured, how his gait was unsteady and his body was swaying dangerously. She also couldn’t help noticing the way he placed a steadying hand on each piece of furniture he met along his way. She quickly averted her eyes as he tripped on the corner of the rug, pretending she had witnessed nothing. She knew he would be embarrassed at his stumble and would think it would lessen him in her eyes, but in truth it was rather endearing. She liked seeing this side of Jack, and what she wanted more than anything was to kiss him. Seduction was off the cards, she had resigned herself to that fact upon witnessing his intoxicated state, but one kiss wouldn’t hurt.

He came to a stop in front of her, gazing down at her with a look of something akin to awe. She motioned for him to take a seat beside her, starting to move her body to accommodate his, but he shook his head and instead knelt before her. His position brought his face level with hers and she leant forwards, lifting her hand to run her fingers down his face.

“I’m very eagerly anticipating the day I finally have you in my bed, Jack Robinson,” she whispered, cupping his cheek. He gaped at her, his eyes going wide. She could see the faint pink blush rising in his cheeks but she refused to look away. He swallowed hard, Phryne watching every constriction of his throat. 

“I’m not sure I’ll live up to the rest of your lovers.”

She ran her thumb along his jaw; leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her lips before she decided to speak. “You don’t need to live up to anyone else Jack. You’re more. In every single way, you’re so very much more.”

Phryne pressed her mouth to his gently, moulding her lips to his and kissing him so lightly it made her ache. She didn’t want to push him by deepening things too quickly, and so instead of parting her lips she settled on leaning in even closer and ensuring every part of her mouth was touching his. Sparks shot through her and she bit back a moan, her mouth opening of its own accord.

And that was all it took. Suddenly Jack’s tongue was entwined with hers, his hand reaching up to fist into her hair, pulling her ever closer. 

* 

Kissing Phryne was something he was positive he would never tire of. Their brief kiss in Cafe Replique was nothing compared to the sensations he was now experiencing. Her mouth, her tongue, her hands gripping his hair... it felt so divine that if he wasn’t careful he was going to give over to her completely, and even his alcohol fogged brain knew that was probably a bad idea. 

As Phryne let out another moan, Jack finally wrenched himself away. Shooting to his feet, he almost toppled backwards in his haste. Oh god, what a fool would he have made of himself if he fallen flat on his arse in front of her? He had to get out of their before he embarrassed himself further. 

“Good night, Miss Fisher,” he announced, his gaze directed at his shoes instead of the lady in question, before he fled from the room. Out in the hallway, he finally let out the breath he had been holding. The air felt cooler and he collapsed against the wall, regaling himself for being a complete and utter fool. What on earth had he been thinking? He made quick work of putting on his coat and hat, his brain only half registering he was still missing a piece of clothing, and made for the door. The night air was brisk and he hastened to his vehicle, slipping his hand into his coat pocket for the key. He came up empty. 

He tried the other pocket but no luck. The wind whipped around him and he pulled the coat around him for warmth, glancing back towards the house. His head was fuzzy, he was tired and cold and the thought of being back in her warm parlour was growing increasingly appealing. As another gust hit him he made his decision and dashed back to the door.

He knocked for the second time that night and was relieved when Phryne arrived at the door almost immediately. The sight of her brought back flashes of warm silky skin and guttural moans and he struggled to make sense of exactly what he wanted to say to her. She moved to the side to allow him entrance before shutting the door against the wind. He hung his coat and hat on the pegs once again and turned to face her.

“Miss Fisher...I seem, well, I seem to not be able to, err...open my, err...I need...” he stuttered, trying to find the words to finish his statement. He watched as Phryne lifted a hand to the neck of her dress and then slipped it down between her breasts. Eyes agog, he continued to stare as she removed her hand and he saw his key dangling on her finger.

“This, Inspector?” he reached blindly for them, but she kept them just out of her reach, before depositing them in her hiding place once again. Jack swiftly drew his hand back to his side, defeated, and she smiled devilishly at him. “You, Inspector Robinson, are injured and inebriated, and there is no way whatsoever you are getting into a car tonight. The guest room is made up for you. Unless of course you’d prefer some company, in which case you are very welcome to spend the night in my boudoir, Jack.”

“The guest room,” he replied, quick as a flash. The thought of her boudoir made him gulp.

“Would you like another drink first before bed?”

He considered the offer, but it came to him that if he consumed any more alcohol he might just be spending the night in her boudoir after all.

“Bed, I think. I’m rather tired.”

“Come along then.”

He followed Phryne as she ascended the stairs and along the corridor upstairs. He deftly avoided looking at the room he knew to be her boudoir, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of another so as not to trip over again. They came to a stop a few doors down.

“Here you are Jack. There are pyjamas laid out for you inside and if you need anything you only have to come find me.”

He nodded his thanks. “Goodnight then, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne took a step towards him and he felt uneasy. She took his injured hand once more and placed a brief kiss to his bandaged fingers. Now it was his turn to be the one to shiver. “I’m happy to be of assistance if you need help divesting yourself of that suit with this injured hand, Jack.”

“No thank you, Miss Fisher, I think I can take it from here,” he told her, retrieving his hand from hers. He saw a slightly dejected look briefly cross her face. “Thank you for being my nurse tonight. Goodnight...Phryne.”

He couldn't help noticing the broad smile that his use of her name brought to her face. She stepped towards him again but this time he felt no fear or worry, even as her lips touched his for a brief and extremely chaste kiss. They parted but Phryne remained close, her hands running down his arms.

“Goodnight Jack,” she whispered, and he could feel her breath on his lips. “Sleep well.”

She turned and walked back towards her boudoir, smiling back at him over her shoulder once she reached her door, before disappearing inside. He readied his hand on the guest room door, preparing himself for what he was sure would be a very tumultuous night of sleep, punctuated by dreams of a certain lady detective. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Phryne sate their desires, albeit separately, and come to some realisations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have definitely heated up in this chapter! Once again, you may have to suspend your disbelief a little at Jack's actions but he is still very drunk. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Phryne Fisher couldn’t sleep. She had tossed and turned in her bed since bidding Jack goodnight, closing her eyes and trying desperately to succumb to the tiredness she felt. Her body was too on edge, after all Jack’s attentions earlier in the night. She needed release.

Stripping herself of her pyjamas, she reached down between her legs and parted her folds, finding herself soaked to the touch. That was what he did to her, the effect he had on her. She circled her clit wildly, bringing her other hand up to tease at her breasts. 

It wasn’t enough. Frustrated, she removed her hand and stood, pacing about her room. She needed him. She was Phryne Fisher and she was in control and she never let any man get the better of her but, oh lord, she couldn’t deny she needed Jack at that moment. If only to satisfy herself that she hadn’t imagined the events of that evening. 

She put on her black kimono and walked along the hallway to his room. She could always say she was checking in on him, if she needed to. And if she found him to be amenable, well, she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the robe.

Phryne knocked lightly on the door before entering. He was asleep, lying on top of the sheets, and surprisingly he had neglected to put on his pyjama shirt. Phryne felt heat creeping up her cheeks. Nothing ever made her blush but the sight of his bare chest was having such a profound effect on her it was startling. So this was what he had been hiding beneath his suits. She had had a brief glimpse of his toned physique at Queenscliff but seeing him laid bare like this was something else. She licked her lips as she ran her eyes over his chest, the muscles in his abdomen, and the dark smattering of hair that sat just above the waistband of the trousers. She knew where that trail would lead and she found herself desirous to follow it. With her mouth. 

Feeling naughty, she slipped her hand into the top of her robe and toyed with her breast. Her body began to quake with desire. If only he were awake. He stirred in his sleep, rolling onto one side, and Phryne stepped back through the door, shutting it behind her. She couldn’t let him catch her, not now. 

Back in her own room, she removed the robe and spread her legs wide on the bed. Letting her mind recall every detail of Jack’s body, she parted her folds once more and set to work, imagining his fingers inside her and his husky voice at her ear. 

*

Jack Robinson awoke to three strangely unsettling realisations. The first, that he was in a bed not his own, the second, that he was stripped from the waist up, and the third, that someone had glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He wasn’t entirely sure which of those was the most prescient, because as he peered around his surroundings to gauge his location a tattoo started beating in his head. 

He screwed up his eyes against the pain but it did little to alleviate it. He decided that the best solution would be to go in search of a glass of water, which would deal with both his head and his throat. Swinging his legs off the bed, Jack saw the silken nightshirt at the bottom of the bed. Silk pyjamas, sumptuous bedding and decor; there was only one place he could be. He smiled briefly at the thought of her, and was hit with a wave of strangely familiar images. Surely he hadn’t...no, he couldn’t have done that, not even intoxicated. But the visions he had of her seemed so real, and he couldn’t be imagining the taste of her lips on his, could he?

He really needed to get that water and sober himself up a little, if only to properly piece together the events of the night and work out how much damage he had done. He unbuttoned the nightshirt and slipped it on, fearing he would run into Miss Williams on his journey to the kitchen. Fumbling to do up the buttons, he soon realised it was futile given the state he was in and settled on pulling the shirt around him. He quietly opened his door, saw the coast was clear and made his escape, heading in the direction of the stairs. 

As he did, he passed a familiar doorway, one that he remembered breaking down so long ago during the Fleuri case. Sitting in a cupboard with Phryne had made for a delightful surveillance job that night. As the memories assaulted him, he found himself being jolted back to the present by a strange noise that seemed to be coming from the bedroom in question. The springs of a bed were creaking, something was slamming into the wall over and over, and he was sure he could hear someone moaning. It all pointed to one thing, and he felt sick to his stomach. She wouldn’t...not with him in the next room. He heard a groan from inside the room and actually found himself biting back tears. She was with another man; he could never compete. He had absolutely no chance whatsoever. And he had to get out of there right that second. 

But then he also had a great desire to see the latest conquest that had made his way into Phryne’s bed. He wanted to see the...the bastard...and to know what he had that made him superior. Alcohol fuelling him, he took a step forward, put one hand on the door handle, and turned. 

He closed his eyes as he opened the door just a crack, praying the inhabitants of the room wouldn’t hear him. He was sure he didn’t want to see what he was about to, but he forced himself to open his eyes anyway, and gasped. 

Phryne lay before him on the bed, absolutely naked. One hand braced against the headboard, the other buried beneath a thatch of curly dark hair, her knees bent and legs spread wide as her body writhed and rocked in pleasure. Her eyes were hooded and thankfully turned away from him. Her back arched against the bed and he was captivated by the sliver of moonlight that illuminated her breasts, the dusky pink nipples hard as rocks before his gaze. 

Unconsciously, his hand drifted down to cup himself through the silk pajama bottoms. He stroked himself as he watched her, delighting in the way Phryne’s face was contorting in pleasure. God, this was wrong, he would never usually do anything like this, but the sight of her giving herself so much pleasure had set off something in him that he just couldn’t stop. The creaking of the bed grew louder as the manoeuvres of her hand grew fiercer and faster. He joined her in picking up the speed, stroking and pulling and twisting until he felt like he was going to combust. Phryne moaned- long, loud, and guttural- and arched up further on the bed, her whole body shaking. Craving more, he slipped his hand beneath the layers of clothing and grabbed hold of his hard member. They were both so, so close and all it would take was one more...

“JACK!” Phryne cried out, almost leaping off the bed as her body came undone before him. He didn’t even stop to consider that she might have caught him watching, because the moment he heard his name on her lips he tumbled over the edge. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, his body throbbing with ecstasy. As he came down from his high, he removed his hand and peered inside the room, watching Phryne as she rode out her aftershocks, her eyes closed shut. He closed the door as silently as he could, walking down the hallway and locating the bathroom with little difficulty. Once inside, he cleaned himself up as best he could and quickly returned to his room. 

Throwing himself down on the bed, Jack tried to understand what on earth had just happened. He was hot, sticky and seemingly incapable of coherent thought. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he got up from the bed and walked to the window, opening it just a crack. The biting wind from earlier had died down to a cool, refreshing breeze. He opened the window further, closing his eyes as the cool air washed over him. The pyjamas he wore were still stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Perhaps if he removed them they would dry and little in the breeze. He stripped himself of the garments, laying them over a chair. Naked, he walked back towards the bed and lay back on top of the covers. That felt much better.

He allowed himself to think back over the whole evening, and especially to focus on what had happened outside Phryne’s boudoir. He had acted despicably, watching her like that without her knowledge or permission, but he found he didn’t regret what he had seen or done. He didn’t regret hearing her moan his name as she came. It finally occurred to him that she hadn’t in fact caught him at that moment, but that she had been imagining him while she was pleasuring herself. The thought made him spike with lust yet again and he tried to relax his muscles. He smiled to himself, realising that tonight had proved very successful in finally forcing him to make a decision. The next time Phryne invited him into her boudoir, he would tell her yes. Yes, god yes, a thousand times yes. And if she didn’t invite him again soon, he would just have to be brave and make the first move. 

*

Phryne rode out the last waves of pleasure until she was completely spent, before drifting into a light slumber, peppered with dreams of a certain detective inspector. When she woke, she found herself slick with arousal once again. God, what this man was doing to her. She lazily ran her fingers through her folds once again, too tired to attempt a second round. In fact, another desire was very quickly overtaking that of her arousal- she found herself longing to see Jack, just one last time, before the night was out.  
She laughed, finding it hilarious the amount of control Jack had over her body without even knowing it. Wrapping her sweat slicked body in the black silk of her kimono, she headed out into the hallway and padded her way along the soft carpet towards her guest room. She felt exhilarated.

Phryne stopped in her tracks, her mouth agape. For there he lay, still on top of the sheets, only this time without a scrap of clothing on. Jack Robinson was completely and utterly naked and oh what a sight he was! She ran her eyes down the taut length of his body from her position at the door, committing as much as she could to memory. Because in that moment, she had made her decision- Jack Robinson was going to share her bed, and her life, if he would have her. And because of that, she didn't need to see him any closer now. 

She turned to leave, pulling the door closed behind her, just as the thought of Dot finding him the next morning hit her. As much as Dot had been influenced by her ways during their time together, she knew that seeing her fiancés boss naked as the day he was born would lead to definite mortification on both Dot and Jack's part. There was no way she could wake Jack- it would be counterproductive for this fledgling relationship they were forming. She padded back to her own room, quickly seeking out the secret store of bedding that Dot kept there in case of emergencies ("Just in case you or one of your companions is ever in need of anything, Miss.") Blanket in hand, she returned to Jack, finding he had stirred in his sleep, rolling onto one side. It alleviated the issue of averting her eyes from one particular appendage, and gave her a glorious view of his toned back and sculpted backside. She gave both a brief appraisal, and then modestly averted her eyes as she approached the side of the bed.

She draped the quilt over his body, turning to tuck the soft cover around his body only once he was completely covered. She lightly nudged his arm to place it beneath the quilt and felt the goosebumps on his skin just as a cold breeze hit her. She shivered, pulling the silk of her kimono tightly around her. The window was open, the lace curtains billowing in the coastal breeze. She hastened to close it, trying to fit the pieces together in her mind. Jack was warm, so he'd risen to open a window and still intoxicated, had removed his clothes and...laid them neatly over the seat? Something didn't quite fit but Phryne didn't feel she had it in her right at that moment to detect. Maybe in the morning. 

She crept back over to his side, watching his face as he slept. He looked so calm and content, a far cry from the stoic facade he wore to the outside world as Detective Inspector John 'Call me Jack' Robinson. The man she saw now was just Jack, dare she say it, her Jack, and he was utterly mesmerising. His forehead was smooth, free from the worrying lines that she knew were mostly always due in part to her. Her gaze dropped lower, to his long lashes and closed lids. Her eyes finally fell to his lips, soft and supple, and she recalled the feeling of them pressed to hers mere hours ago. It had been the briefest of kisses, certainly chaste by her standards, and she longed to repeat it. She wasn't willing to wait too long, and she hoped that Jack would feel the same way, when he recovered from the effects of tonight's indulgence. 

Phryne stifled a yawn as a wave of tiredness overcame her. She leaned down, brushing back the stray hairs that had fallen over his face. She softly pressed her lips to his forehead and he stirred, snuggling further into the covers. He looked adorably boyish and Phryne couldn't resist dropping a kiss to his cheek as well before she left him, heading back to her boudoir to finally succumb to a very contented sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you all think? 
> 
> This fic has been really fun to write and I hope you've all enjoyed it. Although the part with Jack in this chapter proved a little difficult- we were watching Gone Girl whilst I was writing and let's just say, for anyone that's seen the film, trying to write something steamy for Jack whilst THAT scene between Rosamund Pike and Neil Patrick Harris is playing in the background is not easy!
> 
> On a happier note, while this may be the last chapter, the sequel will be on its way soon. And besides Phryne and Jack, it with also have a bit of everyone's favourite interrupting Aunt, Aunt P, and also some Arthur too.


End file.
